


tell you what i'm thinking about

by Anonymous



Category: Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, BUT they are both 18 in this!!, Coming In Pants, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Praise Kink, Service Top, Smut, Voyeurism, and it's a very one sided rivalry, i like it when the funeral directors get mean and then the big strong man gets obliterated, it isnt explicitly stated but it's important to me you know, mostly the smut really, ok shutting up now, rudyard voice this better not awaken anything in me, well rivals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27551971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Rudyard has to work with Eric Bloody Chapman on a project. But it's fine. He can handle this.(He absolutely cannot handle this)
Relationships: Eric Chapman/Rudyard Funn
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28
Collections: Anonymous





	tell you what i'm thinking about

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo it is me the author of 'when the zeroes line up on the 24 hour clock', still too scared to put smut on main. it is once again like 3am and this has not been proofread because I am nothing if not predictable. anyway this fandom needs more porn so if anybody wants to write some actual good smut instead of this shit please do.
> 
> WARNINGS (please read): 
> 
> -whilst this is a secondary school/high school au, these characters are in year 13 (senior year) and are both 18 years old. this is not explicitly mentioned during the fic, but i want to make it clear these characters are both ADULTS, despite the school setting, and there is no underage here. however, if the prospect of them being in school makes you uncomfortable, you may not want to read this
> 
> -this does deal with a bullying, and an incident is described. it isn't violent but like Antigone went through it and was previously humiliated, and if that's something you aren't comfortable reading you might want to avoid this fic

Rudyard Funn was not having a good day. 

For one, he’d been running late that morning, and hadn’t had the time to eat breakfast, so he was rather cranky. The zip on his bag broke, and he had to ask Georgie to bring her pliers in to fix it at lunch. He got thoroughly soaked on the way to school because it was Antigone’s turn with the umbrella and as much as she tried to share it with him, it really was not designed for two people. He couldn’t focus during his study periods because Agatha, the Head Girl, had got it into her head that someone was vandalising school property, and was going around interviewing everybody for anything ‘suspicious’ they’d seen. He was tired, and hungry, and his shoes were still squelching, and he was not having a good day. 

So, knowing his luck, of course it would get even worse.

“So, what I want you to do is create a presentation and a revision resource on the topic.” Mr Fitzgerald explained, pointing to the board. “Each group will have a different focus, and after what happened last time,” he levelled a significant look at Georgie and Chapman at this, the latter flustering slightly while the former simply scowled, “I will be choosing the pairs.”

Rudyard rolled his eyes at this, which he rather hoped Mr. Fitz wouldn’t notice. He crossed his fingers and willed to be placed with Georgie as names were rattled off the list. maybe even Sid wouldn’t be too bad. Really, anyone except-

“Eric and Rudyard.”

Rudyard groaned, placing his head in his hands. Of course. Eric Chapman, who got great marks in essays. Eric Chapman, beloved by the PE department like no student before. Eric Chapman, head Charities Prefect. (Rudyard knew he’d cheated getting it. Somehow or other, he’d cheated.) 

Eric bloody Chapman.

He became aware of people moving into their pairs around him and sighed as he saw a flash of blonde hair and white shirt slip into the seat next to him. (How wasn’t he wearing his blazer? It was the middle of winter, for god’s sake. Bloody Chapman.)

“Hi Rudyard.”

“Hello, Chapman.” 

“You can call me Eric, you know.”

“How very gracious of you, Chapman,” He replied, pointedly. “What topic do we have to do?”

“Policies on religion and culture from Lenin to Brezhnev. That’s not so bad, I suppose.” Rudyard refrained from groaning again at this. That was a huge chunk of the textbook, and not one he found particularly interesting. “So how do you want to do this?”

“I’ll design the revision resource; I’ll make posters and notes or something. We can do the presentation this lesson.”

“Hold on, do you seriously want to make 20 or so posters by yourself? By hand?” Chapman questioned, seeming genuinely confused. Prick.

“Well, no, I don’t particularly want to, but I will. You can read out the presentation, we’ll be even.” 

“Come on, Rudyard, that’s hardly a fair deal. Are you free tonight? Come over and we’ll make them together.”

“What? Now look here Chapman,-“ He began to protest, before he was interrupted.

“Rudyard.” Rudyard looked into Chapman’s stupid genuine face and felt his resolution waver slightly. Damn Chapman, with his pretty eyes and his strong jawline and that very distracting mouth that was currently pulled into a slight frown. Stupid handsome asshole.  
“I’m not going to let you do all this yourself. It’s a pair project, I want to pull my weight.”

‘I have to help my mum with dinner tonight, but I’m free on Thursday,” Rudyard acquiesced, looking away. “Can we do it then?”

“That works for me. Now, let’s try and get this PowerPoint done.” 

Rudyard pulled a somewhat damp textbook from his bag and flicked through it to the chapter they needed, before getting distracted criticising Chapman’s choice of slide design.

Today was really not his day.

Rudyard loitered outside the school gate, waiting for Chapman to finally appear. He’d only been there for approximately 3 minutes, but it felt like an age already. He was dreading having to spend hours alone with the other boy, without any easy escape. 

Finally, he spotted him walking up, being tailed by- oh god. Vivienne Templar. Rudyard could not stand Vivienne Templar. 

“-and Eric darling, it’s just that the Christmas assembly will be so much better if you run it with me, really, Aggie just doesn’t have the eye for planning we do.”

“Viv, I said I’ll think about it, but really I have a lot going on right now. I don’t know if I have time to do this with you. Oh, hi Rudyard. Did I keep you waiting? Sorry, rugby ran a little over.”

“It’s fine.” He muttered, trying not to look up more than he had to. 

“Rudyard, hi! How are you?” Vivienne asked, tone sugary sweet and indicating that she really didn’t give a shit about the answer. “Eric, I didn’t know you hung out with, well, with him!”

“I’m fine. We’re doing a project.” He bit out. Perhaps if he resolutely stared past her, she would leave.

“Aw, and how is Heidi? She wasn’t in Biology yesterday.”

Rudyard felt his anger rise at the nickname. “Her name is Antigone. She hates that nickname. And she’s off sick right now, she has a cold.”

“Oh, well, get well soon and all that! Anyway, think about it, Eric? Bye!” She walked off, getting onto her bus. Rudyard glared after her resolutely. 

“Enjoy yourself! Should we, ah, get going then?” He turned to Rudyard, who nodded and moved away in silence, determined to get to Chapman’s and out again as quickly as possible. Damn some awkward silence, it was better than awkward conversation. 

Unfortunately, Chapman didn’t seem to think this. He kept asking all these questions, kept genuinely trying to know Rudyard, and it was utterly infuriating, especially once they reached Chapman’s house and he changed into a t-shirt (a t-shirt, when it was 10 degrees outside, Rudyard absolutely could not stand him) and Rudyard had to avoid looking at his arms and shoulders for fear of getting flustered. 

Work, then some inane conversation, then some stilted answers, then a lapse into silence, rinse and repeat. Finally, when they were about halfway through the posters, Chapman spoke again, his voice more hesitant.

“Rudyard, do you mind if I ask something?”

“Must you?” He replied wearily, and then after a brief hush, “yes, Chapman, what is it.”

“Why does-, I mean what-…” He started, and Rudyard raised his head slightly, confused. What question had the better of the infallible Eric Chapman?

“Why does everyone call Antigone Heidi? Nobody ever explained it to me, and she seems to really not like it. What happened?”

Rudyard felt a cold weight settle in his stomach. Really, he didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but this story was definitely the worst case. He hated thinking about it, thinking about how sad it had made Antigone, how that sadness had faded into cold frustration and grudging acceptance. 

“I forgot that would have happened before you joined.” He took a deep breath to try and compose himself, levelling his voice before continuing the story. “Back in year 8, Antigone sat next to Seymour Prophitte in Chemistry. He was a right dickhead, and he hated that she wouldn’t pay attention to him, so he was always horrible to her. One time, there was a bottle of formaldehyde on the desk, because Ms. Tawle likes to preserve bugs, and he poured the whole thing into her bag. It got on all of her stuff, and her jumper, and she stank of the stuff for weeks before she could get a new bag. People started calling her Formalde-Heidi, and eventually they shortened it. Half the year don’t even know her actual name. She hates it.” Rudyard felt his voice wobble slightly towards the end, and cursed himself internally for showing vulnerability, especially in front of bloody Chapman, who was having the audacity to look shocked. 

“That’s… that’s horrible. Why would people remind her about that all of the time?” 

Rudyard didn’t mean to snap, but Chapman just got under his skin so easily. “Oh, don’t try and take some stupid high ground, honestly. They call her that because they don’t care. They don’t care she hates it, or that she didn’t speak to anyone for a week after it happened, or about anything, because they don’t care about her. They don’t care about either of us, and I’m used to it, and I don’t need fake pity, and I certainly don’t need you sitting here acting like you wouldn’t have laughed along with them if you were there.” He stood up as he talked, pacing and pointing at Chapman. When he glanced over, he was somewhat surprised to find that Chapman looked… angry? His (unfairly nice) jaw was clenched and his (really unfairly pretty) eyes were narrowed. Rudyard got the sense he may be in slightly over his head. Still, he was not one to back down easily, and he was right, so. 

“Fuck you.” Rudyard was taken aback by the words, and by the cold anger and indignation they were said with. “I was being nice, and you fucking insult me? Why do you always do this, Rudyard, why is it so hard for you to believe that sometimes people are just nice?”

“Because they aren’t! People are dickheads, and you can pretend to be all generous and righteous but you’re just like everybody else Chapman.”

“And how would you know that. You don’t talk to me. You don’t know the first thing about me.” Chapman had stood up as he grew angrier, and they were now toe to toe. Rudyard was forced to look up at Chapman, and a traitorous thought in the back of his head noted just how big Chapman was like this, all broad shoulders and height and toned arms and so close to him. Rudyard studiously ignored how much the thought affected him.

“Oh please. You’re on the rugby team and you do cricket, and athletics too. You get great marks, you’re popular, teachers love you. You’ll get into a great uni and study business or something and get a job as an accountant or a banker. You have everything in life set out for you with a smile and a nod. And you’re so fucking predictable. What could you possibly have hidden that I wouldn’t know?”

Chapman clenched his jaw tighter and made a frustrated noise, battling with some sort of internal conflict. A moment later he appeared to lose. 

“Fuck it.” He muttered, before surging down and kissing Rudyard intensely. His hands came up to tangle in Rudyard’s hair- not tugging, just holding. 

Rudyard, for his part, froze.

Eric broke away a moment later, staring at him. “God, I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He went to step away from Rudyard, all the fight gone from him, but he grabbed his wrist before he could. 

“Why did you do that?” He asked, disconcerted by how small his voice sounded in the quiet room.

Chapman sighed, looking down at where Rudyard still held his wrist. “Because I’ve wanted to for more than a year now. Because the first time I walked into History you were laughing and you were the best thing I’d ever seen, and you still are. Because you drive me up the wall and I wish you’d actually just try to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know you desperately. I don’t know what to say Rudyard. I did it because I wanted to, and I thought you might have wanted that as well. I’m sorry.” He tried to step away again, but Rudyard held firm.

Slowly, he stepped back into Chapman’s space, and brought the hand back to his hair, holding back a gasp when the taller boy began to stroke it. This close, he could see a mole under Chapman’s eye, could pick apart individual eyelashes. Chapman leaned back in, whispered “Is this ok?”. Rudyard nodded, slowly, and their lips met again.

He was more prepared this time, but quickly came to the realisation that he really didn’t know what he was doing here, and instinct could only guide him so far. Chapman seemed to understand this too, taking a lead and guiding him gently. He walked them backwards until they were sat on the bed, and he nipped at Rudyard’s lips, making the smaller boy gasp.

They kissed for what could have been seconds, or minutes, or an eternity, in Rudyard’s mind. He was utterly distracted by Chapman, staring at him as they broke apart for air. He didn’t entirely know what he was doing, but he knew what he wanted. He took hold of Chapman’s hands and brought them underneath his school shirt, heart thumping at the cold and the intimacy of it all. Chapman sucked in the breath, looking at Rudyard with a question in his eyes.

“Please.” Rudyard said quietly, and hands began to stroke up and down his ribs and waist as he leant back in for another, deeper kiss, trying to distract himself from just how big those hands were. He brought his hands up to run across Chapman’s back, his shoulders, the back of his neck, to cup his cheeks, trying to express that huge, overwhelming, breathless feeling invading his brain. His cock began to stiffen in his trousers as he thought about just how strong Chapman was, how warm and powerful. How he knew what he was doing and wanted to do it with him of all people. His head spun and he whined softly, pushing into Chapman’s hand. Chapman pushed him backward until he was horizontal on the mattress, leaning over him, as their kisses became slightly faster, took on a different heat and intention. They broke apart, and Rudyard groaned, chasing the heat of Chapman’s mouth. 

Chapman crawled over him properly on the bed, hands leaving his waist to brace his weight either side of Rudyard’s head. “What do you want?” He asked, and god, his voice was breathy and low, and Rudyard could feel himself grow hotter. 

“I want this.” He tried, but Chapman shook his head.

“No, uh. Tell me what to do.” He asked, quietly, and Rudyard understood.

“Take your top off.” Chapman complied, and Rudyard swallowed, fixated on the expanse of bare skin before him. He ran his hands across it, feeling the warmth of his skin, obsessed with how slender his hands seemed against the other’s broad frame. “Kiss me again.”

Their mouths met once more, heated and faster and Rudyard was growing harder by the second, Chapman’s mouth possessive and making his head spin. His hips bucked up, briefly coming into contact with Chapman’s, and he broke the kiss to gasp as he felt the other’s hardness through both of their trousers. 

“Do that again.” He demanded, panting, and so Chapman did, groaning low and loud as he rolled their hips together over and over. “Mmm, fuck, so good, hhh, yes.” Chapman moaned again at that, placing kisses all over Rudyard’s face and neck, and Rudyard thought about what he’d said. 

“Do you like me calling you good?” He asked, and Chapman grunted his assent, hips rolling harder against his. “Hmm. Bite my neck.” Chapman began to suck and bite at a spot below his jaw, and Rudyard bit back a curse, cock twitching. “God yes, fuck, that’s nice. That’s, ah, very good, so good to me. Gonna mark me up, show everyone how good you are, let them know what you do to me? Fuckkkk. Take my trousers off, shit.” 

Chapman’s hand went to the buttons of Rudyard’s trousers immediately, fumbling to pull them down. He grabbed Rudyard’s dick through the fabric of his boxers and Rudyard had to stop himself from yelling, bucking his hips up into the stimulation as his head fell back. 

He knew he wouldn’t last long and told Chapman as much. “Get me off, god, Chapman, so fucking hot, you’re so good. Love your hands, so big, nhhhh, you’re so strong, bet you could hold me down.” Chapman’s hand sped up it strokes, mouth now occupied biting at his collarbones as he moaned at the words, hips still twitching against Rudyard’s thigh. “Yeah, fuck, do you like that, like everyone knowing how big and strong you are? All that strength for me, baby, shit, you’re so good. Hold me down.” Chapman broke from Rudyard’s neck to sit back on the smaller man’s thighs, hand still working his cock furiously. Rudyard felt himself hurtling closer and closer to the edge and spilt over Chapman’s hand with a shout as the man moved his other arm to palm his own dick through his trousers.

“God, Chapman, that was so nice, unhhh, so good.”  
“Fuck, Rudyard, tell me what to do, oh fuck.” Chapman begged, hips moving furiously down into his thigh. 

“Touch yourself baby, just through your trousers. Let me see how much you want this.”

Chapman complied, palming himself desperately, but groaned “No, so close, can’t last, please Rudyard, shit.”

“That’s ok, come for me when you need to. Want to see you lose it, all for me.” 

Chapman moaned, loud and drawn out, tossing his head back as his hips jerked once, twice against his hand, before slumping down. The two of them panted for a moment spent, before Chapman eased himself off of Rudyard and lay down next to him. 

“We should clean up.”

“Give me a moment.” Eric replied, laughing slightly. “I cannot believe you made me come in my pants. Sorry about that.”

“Why? I didn’t exactly last ages either.” Rudyard pointed out, turning his head to face him. 

“I don’t know, it’s embarrassing. Like it’s my first time or something.”

“Well, it was my first time, so we can excuse it.” Chapman laughed again; the embarrassed look gone from his face. He started to interject, but before he could Rudyard continued, “And quite apart from that, it was ridiculously hot. Next time that happens, I’m going to clean you up, and then you can return the favour.”

Chapman groaned exhaustedly. “Fuck, you can’t just say things like that. I’ll need like half an hour and a drink before I can go again at the very least.”

“Did you like what I was saying then? It wasn’t too corny?”

“I mean, yeah it was corny, but you saw what just happened. I absolutely liked what you were saying.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while, before Rudyard built up the nerve to ask what had been on his mind. 

“So, do you want to do this again? Not,” he added, “right now, obviously. But, I mean, what is this?”

“Well, I am definitely up for a repeat performance. And, ah, that new film just started showing at the cinema. Do you, maybe, we could go see it? Together?”

Rudyard smiled, cheeks warm, and nodded, leaning toward the other boy. 

“Dammit,” noted Chapman after a moment.

“What?”

“We didn’t get all the posters done today.”

Rudyard simply laughed and leaned in to kiss the stupid crinkle between Eric Chapman’s stupid eyebrows. Stupid bloody pretty Chapman.

**Author's Note:**

> i just like making Eric Chapman come in his pants. it's what the people deserve.
> 
> please leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed i will owe you my life i thrive off this validation, and if you have any fic requests feel free to send em in


End file.
